by Jenna Jaxon
“It was really very decent of you, Manning.” At last Morley spoke. “Rescuing Miss Forsythe. There’s not many men who would have done such a thing.”
“Yes, it’s good to know chivalry is still alive. You are certainly to be commended,” Dalbury added.
“And likely thought a laughing stock.” Jack didn’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice. Despite the honor of his noble sacrifice, the cold hard truth was his wife would bear a child not his own. An heir not his own, perhaps. “The whole ton knows it’s not my child.”
“I doubt that.” Swirling his drink violently in his glass, Dalbury scowled. “Morley only knows because he’s family and Kat told Juliet. No one else will know or care.”
“They will know if they don’t already.” Jack tossed back the rest of his brandy, relishing the burn all the way down. “The day I proposed to Alethea there were at least four men languishing at Braeton’s, waiting to apply for the position of her husband. Braeton interviewed two before I put a stop to it, but they were likely told the reason. Cryr might keep his mouth shut, although he’s likely angry with me because I stole a rich wife from under his nose. And Murchison has likely blabbed it to everyone still in Town. The man has no more discretion than a goat.”
“Still, Manning, no one will think less of you. She wasn’t your wife when she did it.” Morley rose and headed to the sideboard to refresh his drink. “She didn’t cuckold you. And if the ton knows, they also know good and well you married her to save her reputation. It will scarcely tarnish yours.”
“More likely they will assume it is yours.” Dalbury stared at him steadily over his glass. “Braeton couldn’t tell anyone who the father actually is because your wife is the only one who knows and you say she’s told no one. As you are the one she called upon to marry her, and the one who actually came up to scratch, most people will think you the guilty party as a matter of course.”
“That’s true, as far as it goes.” Jack hadn’t thought of it that way. The ton would likely assume the child was his. “But what about my heir? Would you be looking forward to the birth of Kat’s child if you knew it wasn’t yours?” When he had contemplated marrying Alethea he’d only thought of her and how her reputation would be in tatters if he didn’t marry her. He hadn’t thought deeply about the position he was placing himself in, where his wife would bring a child into the world whom he would have to claim as his own. And certainly too late now to change anything. Perhaps the sting had become greater hearing his brother-in-law’s and his friend’s excitement over the impending births of their children.
In silence, Jack paced to the sideboard then poured more cognac into his glass, splashing some over the polished oak surface. Standing in the middle of the floor, Jack saluted the others and said, “So much for my family line.”
“Perhaps it will be a girl, Manning.” Morley spoke hopefully. “You don’t know. This could all be a fiddlestick’s end.”
“Oh, I send those prayers up every night.” Jack took a long pull at his glass. The flush of alcohol took the edge off. “We won’t know the outcome for another four and a half months at least. My life’s a merry hell ’til then.” He finished the brandy in two large swallows and set the glass down. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen. I think I shall retire and endeavor to mend my mood before dinner.” With a curt nod, he strode out of the library.
Almost immediately he found Dobson, who would show him to his room on the second floor. The solitude of his own chamber would help him clear his mind.
Chapter 17
Even before Dobson reached the room at the end of the corridor, Jack heard raised voices coming from the chamber. Thompson’s voice and…was that Clemons?
“Are you certain they told you to put Lord Manning’s things in this room? I was told this is Lady Manning’s chamber.”
Definitely Clemons. Jack shot Dobson a questioning look. “Has there been a mistake, Dobson?”
“Not to my knowledge, my lord. Lady Dalbury instructed me to lodge both you and Lady Manning in the Elizabethan room.” Dobson looked offended that Jack would doubt his abilities.
“Ah.” Jack continued to the doorway, Dobson right behind.
“I am sorry, Miss Clemons, but his lordship’s clothing has to be considered as well.” His valet seemed to be holding his own.
“When the master has half as much to put on and take off as my lady does, then you can have more room. Until then, her ladyship takes priority.”
“Is there a problem, Thompson?” Stepping into the large blue and bronze bedroom, Jack confronted his valet, holding his best boots in one hand and a hat in the other.
“No, my lord.” Thompson remained as unflappable as always. “A question of logistics has arisen between myself and Miss Clemons regarding the disposition of clothing. I am certain we can come to an amicable agreement shortly.”
“I have every faith in you, Thompson. Dobson, would you please ask Lady Dalbury to meet me downstairs in the entry hall?”
“Very good, my lord.” The man bowed and scurried away.
“Thompson, I suggest you pack up my things and give the room over to Clemons. I fear there has been a mistake and we will be removing to another chamber.”
After a single startled look, the valet bowed. “Yes, my lord.” He headed into the dressing room.
“Thank you, my lord.” Clemons dipped a curtsy and sped after the valet.
“And it’s this one, at the end?” His wife’s eager voice sounded just outside the doorway.
Damn. He’d hoped to have gone before she put in an appearance. Too late.
Alethea, followed by his sister, swept into the room.
“Oh, my dear, you are already here.” Alethea smiled as she took in the appointments of the chamber. “Isn’t this a lovely chamber? Katarina chose it, she said, especially with me in mind.”
“Did she?” He turned his attention to his sister, who seemed to enjoy Alethea’s raptures over the room. “I wonder which one she’s chosen for me?”
“This is yours as well, Jack.” From her suddenly narrowed eyes, his sister had picked up his tone of displeasure.
“I don’t think that is wise, Kat.” He wanted to signal her, as they used to do under the table at dinner back in Virginia. However, one could hardly kick his sister in full view of everyone, especially when she was pregnant.
His sister smiled, and Jack cursed under his breath. That smile had always meant trouble for him. “Nonsense, Jack. Alethea has said the joint accommodation is perfectly acceptable to her. She and her maid will make space for your things or you can use the chamber next door as your dressing room.”
“I am sorry, Kat, but it simply won’t do.” He’d managed to avoid being in the same bed as his wife for over a month. He wasn’t about to let his sister jeopardize his plan before he could speak to Dalbury. “Alethea is in a delicate condition. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a bed at this time.”
A startled gasp came from Alethea.
“I’m in a delicate condition too, Jack, and my husband sleeps in my bed every night.” She glared at him and he understood then that she’d assigned them the same sleeping quarters on purpose. Matchmaking, so to speak. Had Alethea written to her over the past weeks, perhaps?
“But every woman is different, wouldn’t you agree? And I must insist on doing what is best for me and my wife. So if you will inform Thompson where he may put my things, I will be able to freshen up before dinner.” This was not his sister’s battle. She would have to trust him and let it go.
Kat sent a stricken look to Alethea, then said, “Very well. You can stay in the Turkish room, although the fireplace does not draw as well as one would like. I’ll send a footman to help your valet.”
“Thank you.” Now if she would just walk out with him, perhaps he wouldn’t have to have a scene with his wife as well. “Shall I accom
pany you down stairs?”
“No need, brother.” A daggered look from her pierced his heart. “Alethea, my dear, please let me know if there is anything you require.” Rising on tiptoe, she kissed her sister-in-law’s cheek, and sped away.
Leaving Jack alone with Alethea.
After a moment to steel himself, Jack finally turned to his wife.
Anger flushed her face as she steadily opened and closed her fists. Staring straight ahead, she could have been about to cry or to throw something at him.
“This is for the best, Alethea. I’ll make sure Thompson removes all my belongings so Clemons can set your things to rights. I will see you at dinner.” With a curt bow, he turned and strode out. Cowardly, perhaps, but he’d had more than enough for one day. His only hope was that the appointments of the Turkish room included Dalbury’s best brandy.
* * * *
Alethea struggled out of her restless sleep. The evening had proven nightmarish in so many ways. The room was still, no warm body in the bed or behind the screen. The walls seemed to hold the silence in their icy blue prison. She longed to simply pull the covers over her head and return to her slumber.
Yesterday’s scene had finally proven to her, beyond all doubt, that Jack would never love her. Certainly never love her as she did him. She must learn to accept that deep down, he had never forgiven her for carrying another man’s child. What a fool she had been to hope he could.
Groaning, she sat up in bed. She’d not become a maudlin fool into the bargain. He couldn’t think any less of her than he did now. She might as well live as best she could without his regard.
Throwing back the covers, Alethea sat up and rang for Clemons, then charged behind the screen to see if warm water had been left for her. Finished with a brisk wash, Alethea emerged from behind the screen to find her maid laying out her favorite vermillion print gown.
“I thought you might want to wear something cheery on your first day here, my lady.” Clemons spread the petticoat carefully on the bed. Peeping out from under the bed, her bright yellow shoes with the red high heels always made her smile.
“I see you think of everything, Clemons.” Alethea stepped forward and raised her arms.
“My one duty in life, my lady, is to turn you out beautifully every time you set foot outside this or any other room.”
“Thank you, Rachael.” Alethea grasped the maid’s hand. “I do truly appreciate all your hard work and your great loyalty to me.”
“It’s me should thank you, my lady. If not for having this position this past year, I couldn’t say what I may have been forced to do to keep body and soul together.” Clemons laid the wide petticoat on the floor. Alethea stepped into the circle of fabric and the maid raised the gown and tied the tapes at her waist. “This dress won’t do for you much longer. I think you’re beginning to round out. Normally you’re so small in the waist, when something’s there, others are bound to notice it.”
Alethea nodded and sighed. By the time they returned to London in March, everyone would see she was increasing, if they didn’t already know. She’d hate being stared at, or whispered about. And poor Jack. What a hell he would go through if the ton realized the child wasn’t his. Perhaps he’d had a right to be angry last night. Katarina had confided to her that according to Dalbury, Jack had become upset while talking about the child to her husband and Mr. Morley. It explained a lot, though it hadn’t made her feel any better.
Clemons coaxed her arms into the sleeves of her bodice, now a bit too tight. The maid was correct. Soon this dress must be packed away. She would need to get some new gowns made while she was here or she’d look disgraceful when she returned to London.
With the gown settled in place, she slid her feet into the yellow mules, also a trifle tighter than the last time she’d worn them. Pregnancy was so dreadfully inconvenient.
Sitting down at the ivory-colored vanity table, Alethea motioned Clemons to begin on her hair. The bright vermillion went unexpectedly well with her copper colored hair. In no time, her hair lay curled and piled on her head, harmonizing with her gown. If only she and her husband could get along as well.
“One last pin, my lady.” The hairpin scraped her scalp and she tried to relax. Surely Jack would not continue his foul mood into the morning. Not before company.
Drawing herself up, Alethea set a pleasant smile on her face and headed downstairs. The breakfast room was full of people. Jack was speaking to Lord Dalbury and Mr. Morley and Lady Juliet and Katarina were deep in conversation at the near end of the table.
Silverware clinked, cups clattered into saucers, toast crunched as Mr. Morley bit into a piece heavily coated with orange marmalade. Thank goodness the illness of her early pregnancy had gone. Instead of being nauseous, she was ravenous. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Alethea.” Kat smiled brilliantly, then cut her eyes toward her brother.
“Good morning, my lady,” the men chorused as they rose.
Jack pulled out a chair next to him. “Good morning, my dear.” His tone was light, his smile pleasant. He seated her, then grazed her cheek with his lips and reseated himself next to her.
Wonder of wonders. She raised her eyebrows at his reversal of mood, but would not look this gift horse in the mouth.
The footman served her a plate heaping with ham, soft eggs nested in a slice of bread, bacon, potatoes, bannocks, and a dish of fruit with cream. The delicious aromas overwhelmed her senses and she inhaled deeply even as she picked up her fork. Mouth watering, she dug in.
“Who’s for a ride this morning? The sun is beckoning me outdoors.” Jack sipped a cup of coffee, the only signs of his recently full plate a crust of bread and the remains of an egg yolk.
“Splendid idea, Manning.” Dalbury beamed from the end of the table. “It’s been too damp and cold the past few days to even attempt a ride. I can show you most of the estate, perhaps head over to the home farm. It’s a pretty ride through the woods.” He turned to his wife, his eyes guarded. “Would you like to accompany us, my dear? I can arrange for the carriage to take the ladies so we may all enjoy the day.”
Katarina’s face lit up, her eyes sparking with adoration for her husband. However, she shook her head. “I believe I will remain here if you do not mind, my love. Juliet and Alethea may wish to go. If so, I will be quite content with a book here by the fire.” She squeezed his arm and he kissed her lips.
“Whatever you wish, my dear.”
“I will stay with Kat, if that’s all right with you, Amiable?” Juliet turned big blue eyes on her husband.
He grasped her hand as if it were a lifeline. “Of course, my dear. I completely understand, in your condition.” His grin split his face. “I’m sure if you remain with the others, you will all three be highly entertained.”
“Actually, Mr. Morley, I thought I would accompany the gentlemen,” Alethea replied to the tall blond man, before turning her gaze on Jack.
His brows rose, but he shrugged. “Of course you may come, my dear, if you wish. Dalbury will have the carriage—”
“There’s no need for the carriage. I will ride with the gentlemen.”
Like a boulder crashing into a still pond, the cacophony of suddenly raised voices filled the room. Kat leaned toward her, Juliet drew back whispering to Amiable, Dalbury sat watching the rest, and Jack’s face darkened like a sudden squall over the Irish Sea.
“Don’t you think it would be more comfortable in the carriage, my lady?” The marquess’s gaze pinned her momentarily before settling on Jack with an arch of the brow. Clearly Dalbury thought Jack should take her in hand and decide for her.
She held her breath, her gaze meeting her husband’s. Riding was one of the true pleasures of her life that she must relinquish very shortly for at least a time. Would he deny her this as he had his bed?
Jack shrugged. “She rode part of the way here. I se
e no reason she cannot ride with us. Her condition is not as advanced as the other ladies, so there’s likely little harm in it. However”—he raised his hand to Dalbury—“there will be some guidelines for you, my dear.” He stared sternly at Alethea. “First, no cantering or galloping. Only minimal trotting. And absolutely no jumping.”
“I see.” Allow her the outing while taking all the pleasure from it. “If you would prefer I rode in the carriage you should just say so, my dear.”
“Not at all, my dear,” Jack shot back, an almost imperceptible shake of his head conveying a warning.
She glanced at the startled faces around the table. He was right. The breakfast table was hardly the place for a family squabble.
“I simply want to assure myself of your complete safety.”
“Am I to ride sidesaddle then, my lord?” Many proponents of the new device believed it the safer mode for ladies. If their host insisted she ride that way would Jack defer to him?
“Are you as accomplished on a side saddle as you are astride?”
“No. I detest the side saddle and have refused to learn it.”
“Then what earthly good would it do to insist you ride in one? I’m not trying to punish you, Alethea. It’s obviously safer for you to ride astride.” Staring down first Dalbury and then Morley, Jack stood his ground, thank goodness. When his brother-in-law tried to open his mouth, Jack waved him off. “So it is settled, then?”
Tension drained from Alethea’s stiff shoulders. The day was actually looking up. Not only would she be riding again, but also spending most of the day with her husband who had actually championed her on the issue. She smiled broadly.
“Indeed, it seems to be.” Dalbury continued to stare at Jack, a look one would not wish to encounter on a dark night in a deserted alleyway. “Lady Manning, shall I have your mount readied, or will you ride one from my stable?”